All He Could Give Her
by whitetiger91
Summary: It's the middle of the First Wizarding War and Alice is hungry. Eating for two is more difficult than she realised, yet with a husband determined to make things comfortable for her, will she realise what is most important in life? Written for Round 7 of the QLFC.


**All He Could Give Her**

 **A/N: This fic was written for Round 7 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Beater 1, Falmouth Falcons. This round I was required to choose a random pairing from a list of ships. I chose HMS Aurora Borealis, which is Frank and Alice Longbottom. Currently I am also writing a collection of ten or so chapters on the couple for the Diagon Alley II forum's Battleships competition, and hence this will be renamed as 'HMS Aurora Borealis' after it is marked.**

 **Optional prompts: (both underlined for convenience)**

 **(word) bond**

 **(word) scarf**

 **Word count: 2995 words (word counter and Gdocs).**

 **A huge thank you to my amazing teammates Mal, Cara, Arty and Ari, and my little sister who helped me fix this story and turn it into more than just a 'slice of life' with a better ending. I love you all! This fic was written with the inspiration of what many people throughout history have done during wars, by dancing away their hunger. I've never been pregnant myself, so apologies if the time frames aren't exact. I simply used stories from my mum without going into too much detail haha. All capitalised words were taken from a site listing which Potter words should be capitalised in British English; just PM me and I'll point you to it!**

 **I also researched the concept behind the wrappers Alice gave Neville, finding out that they were no more than being the only thing she could give her son. Sometimes, that is better than any material object.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! Xx**

* * *

Alice pressed her lips together, holding her swollen belly. For the seventh time that evening, her stomach growled, sounding more ominous than the thunder outside. She was supposed to be eating for two, and her stomach would not stop reminding her that she hadn't even eaten for one that day. Rubbing her hand over her bloated abdomen in soothing circles, she tried to still its rumbling, peeking over at Frank to make sure he hadn't heard.

Thankfully, her husband's brown eyes were scanning the Prophet, searching for the names of any friends who had fallen, just as he had every night that month. If he knew that she was hungry—that she was craving a piece of cake or a Pumpkin Pasty covered in chocolate frogs—he would go out and find food for her. He had offered several times that day already, insisting that he would be alright. Each time she refused, he would grow irritated and try to leave anyway. Alice wouldn't have him risk his life for her and so she rubbed her stomach harder to quell the noise.

Unfortunately, as she let her hand fall away from her belly to turn the page of the novel in her lap, her traitorous stomach gurgled again, louder than before.

"Are you hungry?" Frank asked, folding the paper.

"No, no... that was just… nope, I'm fine."

Sighing, Frank put down the paper and stretched. Picking up the black and white, striped scarf beside him, he wound it around his neck and stood up.

"I'm going to go get us something to eat."

"Frank, no, don't—"

"We can't live like this, Alice! Who knows when someone from the Order will pop back in with supplies? I don't think they realise just how much food we really need here."

Alice stared at the page of her book, the black words blurring together on the crisp, white parchment. The Order had given them plenty of food, especially given that they were in the middle of war when supplies were running low. She had, however, greedily gobbled down everything whenever she felt the urge to eat, forcing herself to forget that Frank was starving himself just so she could do so.

"Oh, no, darling. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Frank said, his voice softening when she sniffled. "Don't cry."

Alice looked up to see Frank smiling at her, the undeserved understanding lighting up his eyes. It only made her stomach churn, this time with the guilt of being the cause of the problem. "I'm just saying, when push comes to shove in these times, we—I—might need to take a few matters into my own hands. Starting with a shopping trip."

"You can't!" Struggling to stand up, only to flop back onto the sofa and her book, Alice tried to get Frank to stay. "Really, I'm not that hungry, and it's not worth the risk. I won't have you going out there by yourself when—when those Death Eaters are running around looking for us. Moody told us to stay put, as did Dumbledore, and if they say stay, then we're staying."

"But they're probably too busy with Order stuff. I'm sure I'll be fine for just one night."

"Frank…"

"I could just Owl my mother, then, surely they wouldn't check—"

"No! No, erm, don't bother your mother." The thought of Augusta contacting them made her shiver, her mother in law being more dragon than human. A visit from her sounded almost as bad as Frank going out.

"Fine, I'll Floo for some food, then. Contact someone in the Order and see if they can bring us something that way."

Alice could see the determination in his eyes, the folding of his arms adding to the effect. Still, she wouldn't—couldn't—let him go.

"They can track the Floo system and are more than likely searching everyone's mail."

"Well, then I'll Apparate. Go to some Muggle place where they won't be expecting us to go. There's bound to be something open at this time of night, surely."

"Please, Frank, it's too risky. I'm not that hungry, honestly. Please stay." Alice's voice broke, not able to continue the argument. She was using the same arguments that she had used all day, over and over again, in a poor attempt to keep him home. The Death Eaters were out there, waiting for a member of the Order to be foolish enough to leave their hideout. She would bet on her life that they were watching the house, even if they couldn't get in. She also knew that sooner or later, her arguments wouldn't work, and Frank would leave.

Frank wavered on the spot, eyes staring intently into hers. She could see the pain in them, causing her heart to squeeze. Placing a small smile upon her face, she attempted to reassure him that she was ok. After a few moments of surveying her, his eyes never lighting up, he seemed to buy it. Sighing and raking a hand through his thick, brown hair, he sank back into his chair and picked up his paper once more.

Alice relaxed and rolled her shoulders, only just realising that she had tensed them. Taking a deep breath, Alice pulled her novel from beneath her and opened it to the chapter she was on.

It wasn't a particularly enthralling story—a mushy, romantic dribble Lily had lent her a few months before—yet it was one of the few they had managed to take with them to the small cottage. It was hard getting her mind around the reason why the protagonist insisted on believing that a woman was only good if she could cook, and Alice was unable to register what she was reading. It was even harder, however, to concentrate when she could feel Frank watching her.

Narrowing her eyes, she focused harder on the novel. But the more she tried to pay attention to what she was reading, the less she was able to. Finally, in resonance with her frustration, her stomach gurgled.

"Right, that's it."

Alice's head shot up as Frank stood with a sigh. She watched as he walked over to the coat stand by the door, searching through the cloaks and scarves hanging there.

Clutching her stomach, she pushed herself up off the sofa, knowing all too well what was going on in Frank's mind. More likely than not, he was planning to sneak out and get some food despite her warnings.

"Frank, don't even think of goi—"

"Shh." Frank held up a hand, cutting her off.

Still looking at the cloaks, he rummaged through the pocket of a brown one. From within it, he pulled out his wand and a small box. Alice craned her neck to get a better looked at the box. Tiny white flowers were painted on it over a blue background, a small silver handle sticking out of the box's left side.

"Frank…"

He turned around to face her, and she saw a wide smile spread across his face. His eyes twinkled as he walked forward, his free hand extended to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, taking a step back and hitting the arm of the sofa.

Frank continued walking forward until he stood in front of her. Lifting a finger to her lips as she began to question him again, he smirked. "Distracting you."

Then, placing the small box on the coffee table, he flicked his wand at it and made the little silver handle on the box spin around. Soft classical music filled the small room, competing with the crashing thunder outside. Placing his wand in his pocket, he grabbed her hands and twirled her around. The music helped Alice feel more graceful despite the way her extra weight threw her off balance and caused her to stumble about. Frank held her steady, allowing her to bury her head in his shoulder for extra support. She could feel his chest rumble as he chuckled.

"Frank, really, what are you doing?" she said with a groan, peeking up at her husband.

He was still smiling down at her, eyes twinkling.

"Like I said, I'm distracting you. If I can't go out and get you a decent meal, the least I can do is make tonight a little more enjoyable."

Her cheeks felt hot, and she ducked her head, unable to look at him. Frank didn't need to do this; she was the reason they had nothing to eat. After all, he must've been far hungrier than she was, considering he let her have most of the food.

Looking back up, she saw that Frank was still watching her, humming to the music as he slowly twirled them around again. The thunder was getting louder, the lightning illuminating the room, yet Frank seemed determined not to let it get the better of him.

"C'mon, show me some moves, Al," he said, pushing back from her and wiggling his hips.

Frank looked absolutely ridiculous, and she shook her head as he tried to move her from side to side. Her blush grew, the embarrassment now stemming from the fact that she looked utterly foolish.

"Frank, you know I can't…"

"I know you have moves." Winking and trailing a hand down to her stomach, he added, "After all, we do have a baby on the way."

Hitting him across the shoulder, she shook her head. "Oi, don't be cheeky!"

Frank leant forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, grinning. Then, he took his wand out with his free hand once more. Flicking it at the music box, he changed the tune to a faster, louder beat.

Alice groaned as he began to wiggle his hips even more, his foot tapping against the carpet. The thunder outside could still be heard, but she found that it was becoming less prominent.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly mirrored Frank's movements, tapping her feet to the beat. Frank took her hands and swung them to and fro.

"Hey, can you do this?" he asked, stepping back when she didn't resist.

Curling his hands into fists, he moved them around in circles, pumping them in the air. His right foot also began to move around in circles, making Alice wonder how he hadn't tripped already. Waggling his eyebrows, he dared her to step forward.

Alice's stomach churned, accusing her of torturing it by not supplying it with the energy her body required to dance. Frank looked at her hopefully, begging her to dance. His plan wouldn't work; if anything, it would only make her cravings grow. He was trying, though, and she felt guilty for not being able to enjoy the moment.

Sighing, she waddled forward and curtseyed. Plastering a smile on her face, she winked at Frank and twirled around, her feet a little out of sync. She found it hard to reach her hands into the air as she once might have been able to, yet she tried anyway, hoping to inject as much grace into her movements as possible. Frank put his fingers between his lips and whistled, giving her the confidence to shimmy her shoulders back and forth. As soon as she did, her stomach churned and she placed her hands upon it.

Forcing a smile to hide her discomfort, she watched Frank skip up to her and take her hands. Pulling her forward, he lead them around the room, making her shake body parts she had long forgotten existed in the seven months of her pregnancy. The ruckus of the storm continued around them but Frank didn't stop dancing, singing the lyrics of the song at the top of his lungs whilst moving around. When they neared the sofa, she began to feel nauseous and set her lips into a tight line.

Every part of her still longed for food, and now her ankles decided to make the dancing just as difficult for her. They began to swell, and just as she allowed Frank to spin around again, she toppled to the side. Frank rushed forward in time to catch her, easing her onto the sofa. Alice tried to catch her breath, allowing Frank to bend down on his knees and lift one of her ankles to his lap. He rubbed and massaged it, brown tufts of hair falling over his forehead.

"Are you alright?" he asked, picking up her other ankle.

Alice nodded, wincing as she leant back into the soft pillows. "Yes, I'm fine."

"And your hunger?"

She replaced her grimace with a smile. "It's gone. Thanks."

Her smile faded, however, when she looked up at Frank and saw that his eyes were clouded with concern. Pointing his wand to the music box, he stopped the tune, allowing the thunder to take over the peace again.

"Are you sure?" he asked, turning his eyes to the ground. Alice followed his gaze, watching him twist his foot into the carpet.

"Absolutely," she said, nodding, even though she knew he couldn't see it. He only looked up when her stomach grumbled again, contradicting her words.

The noise was louder this time, and it took all the energy she had to suppress it. It was painful, too, like a hundred babies were kicking at her insides at the same time they tried to pull the stomach lining back in. In fact, it was almost painful enough that she felt like throwing up the little food that was still inside, her stomach gurgling again to emphasise its need to be filled. Nevertheless, she did not want to disappoint Frank with the idea that his distraction had not worked.

Putting on a brave smile, she gave a little laugh. "Really, that was great. As long as you promise to buy me one of those Muggle burgers with pickles that your mother hates when this war is over, I'll be fine."

Frank surveyed her for a moment, lips set in a small frown. Alice patted the seat next to her, holding her breath as she watched his reaction. Just as he had during their argument about him going out, her husband finally sighed and nodded.

A grin spread across his face when another rumble sounded—Frank's stomach echoing her own. "Two burgers, one normal and one with honey on top? Sounds good to me," he said with a chuckle, crinkling his nose at the mention of one of her more frequent cravings.

Alice exhaled and smiled. "Of course!"

She patted the seat next to her again, taking Frank's hand when he sat down. Something in his trouser pocket crunched, and he reached back to take it out. Opening his hand, he revealed a piece of chewing gum, the purple and gold wrapper glinting under the light.

Turning to her, he held it out to her. "Milady? This one is honey flavoured."

"You take it," she said, pushing it away.

"You need it more."

"Frank, your stomach is competing with mine, now."

"Alice, I can hear the growls over the thunder outside—from _your_ stomach. I can also see the way you grimace every time it does. You need it more than I do. Besides, I got you into this mess," he said, staring at her stomach.

Her cheeks grew hot as she realised that she had, yet again that evening, been unsuccessful in hiding her hunger. She knew that by 'this mess' he meant getting her pregnant, but couldn't help but think he also meant everything that had happened to them in the last year or so. Moving from their first home together to a dumpy old shack, leaving their friends and family behind to go into hiding, encouraging her to become an Auror and join the Order with him, and putting their lives at risk of wrathful Death Eaters—all the bad luck that they had had. To each of these events she had willingly consented, the bond she had with him making it impossible to ever leave his side. Her heart squeezed knowing Frank blamed himself for it all.

Stroking his hand, she took the gum from him. Opening the wrapper and popping the purple and gold goo into her mouth, she smiled. "Mmm, honey and grape," she said, poking her tongue between her lips to reveal the colours that stained it.

Frank winked, clapping her on the shoulder. "That's my girl." Stretching, he stood up and turned the music back on, dancing around. "Better outdo this storm."

The moment he turned away, she stopped chewing it. The gum was barely food, the goo sticking between the crevices in her teeth. The hints of honey and grape barely disguised the stale taste gum often had when left uneaten for months. She knew there was no way it could quell her hunger, or make up for the lack of nutrition she was not receiving.

Alice clutched the wrapper and looked up to see Frank dance around the room, smiling when he bumped into the furniture. Watching him, she could not find any hint of regret evident on his face for giving up the last chance he had of eating that day, even if it was just gum. In fact, he looked almost content.

The storm crashed upon the little cottage, a mighty crescendo of light and thunder that rattled the floor. Her stomach echoed it, gurgling and churning, warning her that it needed more, that the gum was not enough. Her ankles throbbed, as though they, too, were siding with her stomach, demanding more be done for her.

Bringing the wrapper to her chest, she continued to survey Frank. The gum had been all he could give her, she realised, and somehow, the taste in her mouth became much more pleasant. More so, it seemed to be better than any honey-covered burger or chocolate-dipped Pumpkin Pasty might have been. Ignoring everything else—her swollen ankles, her stomach, the lightning—she hoisted herself up off the sofa to join Frank. He had given her everything, and now it was time that she returned the favour.


End file.
